I don't believe in happy endings
by sirutheleopard
Summary: Clary was never one to believe in happy endings. After the loss of her mother she never really recovered, the scars in her heart still ache. Now she's living under the mercy of her violent father, and has no interest in life. But when a certain gold eyed boy comes to her high school and introduces her to the mysterious world of shadowhunters, will she be able to heal her heart?
1. Prologue

Prologue

* * *

 _"_ _Mom, why is daddy angry?"  
"_ _Wait here, sweetie. Mom will go and talk to daddy."  
"_ _Mommy, I'm scared."  
"_ _Don't worry. It'll be okay."_

 _And so she hid._

 _There she was, sitting under the table, hiding. Knees brought to her chest so she could hug them for comfort and rest her chin on them. Her curly, red hair surrounded her shoulders like a cloud of fire, her emerald green eyes locked on her parents._

 _She could smell the strong scent of alcohol in the air. She could feel the tension building up, hear her mothers heart beating rapidly. She could sense that something bad was going to happen._

 _"_ _Valentine, just go to rest. You've drunk way too much, and—"  
"_ _Shut up!"_

 _She winced. Tears started to build into her eyes._

 _"_ _Just let me help y—"  
"_ _SHUT THE FUCK UP!"_

 _Her eyes widened in shock as she saw his palm slamming against her mother's cheek. A loud slap echoed in the kitchen. Her mother looked scared, but somehow calm. Like she knew what was coming._

 _"_ _You have no right to help me. You're just a filthy whore!"  
"_ _I'm not a –"  
"_ _You think that I don't see the glances you exchange with Luke?"  
"_ _Luke? He is just a fri—"_

 _Another slap._

 _A punch. Second. Third._

 _Her mother stumbled backwards, against the kitchen level. Even though she was clearly not new to this, she still looked hurt._

 _"_ _Honey, please.."_

 _A kick.  
Her mother fell onto her knees.  
And watching it made her stomach flip and the tears started running down her round cheeks. A quiet sob escaped her lips. She just wanted to run out of her hiding place and help her mom. _

_Another kick. And yet another.  
Her mother let out a repressed shriek. Her father looked furious, And she was just scared.  
It went on for what seemed like hours. Her mother asking him to stop, quietly, at first, yet her pleadings getting louder and more desperate after every kick and every insult. _

_She heard a loud crack._

 _Something broke._

 _Her mother screamed._

 _Valentine didn't care. Another kick. Thump. Thump. Thump. Crack. Scream._

 _Another rib broke. She looked like she was going to faint._

 _"_ _I- I can't breathe…"_

 _This made him stop.  
He cursed._

 _She sobbed loudly.  
His gaze turned to her and she tried to get as far away from him as possible, shrink into the corner and just hope he would go away.  
But he didn't.  
He just came closer._

 _"_ _Come on, Clary. We'll be going. Now."_

 _Without waiting for answer, he darted towards her, grade her arm and pulled her out of her hiding place._

 _"_ _Daddy, no! Mommy is not okay! Help her!"_

 _He swung her over his shoulder and made his way to the front door._

 _She screamed on top of her lungs. He didn't listen. Instead he threw her off of his shoulder and put on the ground, his giant hands grabbing her arms way too tight. She could imagine her bones crushing like her mother's._

 _"_ _Listen now, you little brat. We are leaving now. You will never mention any of this to anyone, are we clear? Never. To anyone!"_

 _She blinked away the tears and shook her head. Fiery red strands of hair danced around her head as she did so._

 _"_ _No no no no no! Help her! HELP HER!"_

 _His face hardened. His grip of her arms tightened. She could feel his alcoholic breath on her face._

 _"_ _Go outside. Now."_

 _He pushed her towards the front door. She tried to run past him, to her mother, but he didn't let her. So she screamed again. And then he slapped her.  
She froze. She was shocked. Paralyzed.  
Another push towards the door.  
Slowly she turned around, and with stiff steps she wen her way to the door and out of it. _

_She walked to the end of the pathway, stopping there.  
For a moment was quiet and calm. Only the silvery crescentbeams were falling over her as the silence stretched and stretched. There was only the delicate sound of the northern wind blowing trough the streets, soughing the glistening leaves of the trees, tickling her bare ankles…_

 _Then she heard a small explosion.  
Then there was the fire.  
Her father ran out of the house, grabbed her onto his shoulder and ran._

 _Ran, ran, ran._

As the say…  
Nothing beautiful lasts forever.  
And she learned it the hard way.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Thank you so much for reading!**

 **I hope you enjoyed, this is basicly the first of my longer fanfictions and I must admit feeling a little bit nervous about posting this... But well, better try than not try.**

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

 **\- Siru -**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **Hello again! I'm here to give you relatively short and boring chapter, sorry for that. I've just been really stressed out lately, so I really have no patience to go back to writing this again.. and I didn't want to make you wait. ^^"  
More author's notes on the end, now I'll let you read the story. **

Chapter 1:

Clary Fray was sitting on still lightly damp grass, her eyes fixed on the simple sketchbook laying on her lap. Her brows were furrowed as she studied the drawing in the slightly brownish-white paper. Something was off in it, she knew it, but couldn't figure out what. It must've been some little detail, one little spot, that didn't quite stick out for her eyes.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. In one quick motion she ripped the drawing off of the sketchbook, crumbled it into a ball and threw it on to the ground. Now the paper ball laid there, almost catching the wind and running off with it. There were dozens of balls more, all of them which were once drawings.

Clary was annoyed. Her inside boiled, burned with the same fire her hair did in the illuminating rays of sunlight. Her mind was dark and clouded. Her motivation and inspiration were in the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, in some bottomless pit that light never reaches. Her will for life was on it's way there.

Last night was bad, worse than usual. Her father was drunk – _very_ drunk – and not happy by the fact that Clary had used her money on art supplies aside from alcohol for him. He hit her… which wasn't unusual. He did it almost every week.

But this time… he was furious. He hit her, threw her around the room and kicked the air out of her.

She felt like crap. Her sides were aching from the kicking and her head hurt from all the punches. But as said… it wasn't new to her, so she knew she shouldn't hope for anything more than the violent father she had. Pessimists don't get disappointed.

Her green gaze followed two students, a girl and a boy, walking to the school. They looked very much alike, so she assumed they were siblings. Looking at the girl she couldn't help but feel a little sting of envy in her heart.

The girl had slightly wavy, raven black hair that the beams of sunlight made shine like silver. Her eyes were so dark, maybe even black, and her body? She was skinny, tall and just beautiful and seemed to know it. _Are clothes that revealing even allowed at school?_ Clary thought to herself.

The boy, on the other hand, didn't look so bad himself. He had messy, kind of spiky black hair that almost fell over his gorgeously blue eyes. His features were unusual, cold and dainty. He was handsome, Clary had to admit.

Clary dug her phone out of her pocket to check the time. Twenty past eleven… All of her classmates were probably at the cafeteria, eating and having fun with their friends, gathered in their own little groups.

All but her. She didn't have any.

She had always been considered as the art freak who came from a bad family. Everyone knew how her mother had died in that fire thirteen years ago, and sometimes they all saw the scars on her skin even after two layers of makeup. Sometimes the makeup wore off revealing the purplish black bruises on her shoulders, neck and above the collarbones. And of course they stimulated discussions.

 _Is she okay? No, she's not. I think her father abuses her or something. Remember how her mom died? She was burned to death. Surely her father had his hands on it._

It's not hard to imagine what that kind of rumors do to your reputation. Clary had been left alone for a while, but then? Then the bullying started. The "popular ones" made fun of her, because they knew that she wouldn't tell anyone. She didn't _have_ anyone to tell about it.

They thought she was weak.

She wasn't.

Because she was still alive.

* * *

Later that day she was sitting in her English class, listening to the teacher telling about the history of English literature. She was bored out of her mind. Usually she didn't hate English that much… but history was just boring and stupid.

Clary's eyes wandered. Even tough she looked like she didn't pay attention to the conversations around her, but she did.

 _"_ _Did you hear? There is a new student coming. They say he's an adopted sibling of the Lightwoods, coming straight from a British boarding school."_

Clary raised her brows slightly. New student, huh? She already knew what that meant… few days of non-stop fuss about who he is and what's in his past. The students in this school were like vampires sometimes. They just ate gossip and drama instead of blood.

She felt a little bit sorry for the new guy. It wasn't easy being the new one, and –

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. The teacher stopped her talk and furrowed her brows. She rose up and went to the door to open it, and the second she turned the handle down someone busted in.

It was a boy with marvelous, golden blonde hair and eyes that were filled with conceit and flirtation. They were a startling shade of brown and looked like molten gold. He had a huge grin plastered on his face.

"… and you are?" the teacher asked in puzzlement after she recovered from the shock.

"My name", the stranger boy started turning his gaze towards the teacher, "is Jace. Jace Wayland." He flashed a bright smile towards the adult, before turning back to the class. "I'm _the_ new student."

Cary rolled her eyes. So he was one of those guys… he was going to get along with the soccer team, that she could say. They were all just a bunch of selfish womanizers with brains size of a peanut.

"Where can I sit?" Jace asked, scanning the room with his eyes. He paid no attention on Clary, who was not surprised – no one ever did.

"Just please, take a seat somewhere, mister Wayland", the teacher sighed, returning to her place in front of the classroom. Jace was grinning wildly as he darted his gaze towards a skinny, blue-eyed silver blonde, whose name Clary did not remember and didn't even care to remember. As Jace made his way towards the girl and sat down next to her, Clary could almost hear the jealous thoughts filling the air. She rolled her eyes again and shifted her eyes from ' _the_ new guy' towards the window she was sitting right next to.

The weather outside had been lovely only few hours ago, but now the sky was slowly filling up with thick cloud curtains in many shades of gray. It would start raining at any minute. Quiet sigh escaped Clary's lips. Rain sucks.

She could hear the blonde giggling, probably at something Jace had said. Clary was starting to feel annoyed. Something about the golden haired boy was just extremely irritating. Maybe it was his ego or his stance, or maybe the hunch Clary was getting from him. Everything about that guy told her that he was trouble and she needed to stay away. And that she was going to do.

* * *

As she expected, the rain started pouring down from the heavy clouds as soon as she got out of school. Annoyance fed off the raindrops that rolled down her pale skin, and her steps started to lead her along the familiar route to home. Her hands stuffed into her pockets, the hood of her hoodie pulled over her head almost covering her eyes, foggy thoughts swirling in her head she made her way towards home.

She didn't want to go home where her father was probably drunk and waiting for her. But on the other hand – if she didn't go, he would get mad and hit harder. It was better to just go now.

It was quickly getting darker and colder and the raindrops were hitting harder. She sighed, annoyed, and decided to take a shortcut to home. She slipped into one of the dark, narrow alleys which no lamp posts illuminated with slightly yellowish light. She knew that alleys like these were dangerous, but she had never seen a rapist or a thief while passing through them.

As she made her way through the endless looking alley, her thoughts started to get hastier. There was a weird, alarming feeling growing inside of her. She pulled the hood off of her head and looked around. She couldn't see anything but dark, few trash bins and a cat disappearing into the shadows. Her green eyes narrowed a little. Maybe she was just being delusional.

But she was still creeped out, so she sped her walking to run and hurried to home, furiously blinking to get the water droplets out of her eyes.

* * *

She opened her front door as quietly as possible and tip-toed inside. She listened carefully. There was no sound to be heard, silence was stretched over the apartment. Then she heard footsteps.

She threw her bag to the ground and sprinted towards the staircase, trying to get up to her room before –

Clary felt a pair of strong arms grab her by her arm and she was thrown to the ground. A quiet hiss escaped her lips as she hit her head to the floor.

"Where do you think you're running to?" her father rasped out. She gulped before turning her eyes towards his angry face.

"I was going to my room", she answered, tension cracking in her voice.

"Before telling me you're home? You know that's against the rules, _Clare-bear_ ", Valentine said with low, dark voice. She dropped her eyes to the ground and mumbled an apology, trying to get up before he would hit again. Clare-bear never meant any good.

Clary let out a loud yelp when her father's foot made contact with her side. She gasped sharply and tried to curl up on herself to escape this hell.

But it didn't work. It never did.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! And again, sorry that this is a boring one - it is kind of a filler I guess.  
Reviews are appreciated, thank you for the few that started following this story, favorited it or wrote a review 3**

 **~ Siru**


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